


The Woman With You

by DramioneConvert



Series: The Woman With You [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Draco dances!, F/M, HP: EWE, Hermione Granger is tired of being Hermione Granger, Ministry Ball, Not Epilogue Compliant, Reformed Draco Malfoy, The Brightest Witch of Her Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-12 02:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11152161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneConvert/pseuds/DramioneConvert
Summary: Sometimes, Hermione Granger is tired of being Hermione Granger. The weight of the wizarding world has been on her shoulders for years, and she can handle it…usually. But at the Battle of Hogwarts Anniversary Ball, she finds blessed relief in the arms of the last person she ever expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So there’s a Kenny Chesney song called, “The Woman With You” that has always spoken to me. As modern women, I think we try to take on entirely too much and try to be everything to everyone – the class mom, the top employee, the perfect wife. It’s so easy to get weighed down with all your responsibilities and the people who look to you to make things happen. I always find it cathartic (when I force myself to do it) to just be the woman with my husband and let all that anxiety melt away. I hope you find that in this story. There will be three chapters. They are already complete, and I will post updates every few days. 
> 
> Thank you to my excellent beta, HermioneJeanWayne! She always understands me. The Ginny to my Hermione.

Hermione leaned on the counter and looked over her reflection in the Ministry bathroom. The red satin dress hugged her curves nicely, and her curls hung down her back rather than in the loose bun that she usually wore to work these days. Thank Merlin for the Muggle hair oil she had discovered a few years ago that kept her frizz down and allowed her to tame her unruly tresses. Her eyes roamed over her face, her jewelry; she tugged at her dress and fidgeted with her hair again. She took a few deep calming breaths and steeled herself to go back out there. She remembered she was a war heroine, dammit, and straightened her spine accordingly.

She swept out of the bathroom with her chin held high and forced herself to walk measuredly to her seat between Harry and Draco at the head tables. On Harry’s other side were Ginny, Ron, _Susan_ (Ron’s flavor of the week girlfriend), Neville, and Luna. The other remaining members of the Order sat behind them along with the rest of the high-ranking employees of the Ministry.

The second anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts indicated to someone at the Ministry that a ball was in order. The purpose was to recognize the strides the magical world had made since the defeat of Voldemort, but Hermione couldn’t help feeling a little bitter about the whole charade. To her, this day would always be about the friends she lost and the horrors she witnessed. Sure, she had hope for the future, and she worked every day in the Department for International Magical Cooperation to make those dreams a reality. But today, she just wanted to sit at home with a hot cup of tea and alternate between reading Hogwarts: A History and staring out her flat’s large window over Muggle London.

She was broken from her longing reverie by a glass clinking behind her. Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt rose from his seat and placed the tip of his wand to his throat. His booming voice was amplified further to address the sizable crowd. He gave the typical welcome remarks, introduced the people at the head table, and launched into his speech about the reformations in the magical world in the last two years. Hermione was only half listening, torn between her memories of the war and her discomfort about what was coming next. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice the end of Kingsley’s speech until the chairs around her started to screech against the floor as their occupants rose to their feet. She stood too quickly and wobbled a little in her heels. A hand reached out from her left to firmly grab her elbow. She bristled at the touch and her shocked face turned up to stare into the gray eyes of the warm hand’s owner.

“Steady, Granger,” Draco Malfoy said. “Perhaps that third glass of wine was too much for you.” He smirked annoyingly at her.

“I’m fine,” she growled back and pulled her arm from his grasp. He sighed dramatically, returning his gaze forward, and held his hand out to her formally.

With horror, she realized the worst part of the night was upon her. After dinner and the speech, the members of the head table were supposed to lead the crowd in a wizard waltz. They would be exposed in front of everyone for one excruciating dance before the spectators were allowed to join in. Draco and Hermione being the only two without dates were forced to be dance partners.

She guessed “forced” was a strong word as she had plenty of time to find a date, but there was no one that interested her. She especially didn’t feel like mindless drabble with someone she barely knew on this of all days. Ron was no longer an option as their tumultuous relationship had finally broken off six months ago, and every other wizard she knew well was now paired off. Of course, if she had fully realized the ramifications (i.e. dancing with Draco) of her decision, she might have toughed it out and picked someone else. Maybe. At least he was an excellent dancer.

Draco cleared his throat, and she realized she’d gotten distracted again. She took his hand, and he led her down the stairs of their platform to the ballroom floor where the other couples were assembling, waiting for the music to begin. She looked at the couple closest to them and pursed her lips as she saw Ron making googley eyes at Susan.

With another huge sigh, Draco yanked on her arm, spinning her around to face him. “What is with you tonight, Granger?” he asked irritably. His face was placid, but his eyes were raging with emotion, which one exactly she wasn’t sure. It knocked the biting remark she had planned right out of her mouth.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I really don’t want to be here.” His gaze was so intense that she looked away, out at the crowd scrutinizing them. Bad idea. Her head snapped back up to face him.

“I see. Not excited about dancing in close proximity with a former Death Eater I take it,” he sneered. “But if you could suffer through for a few more moments, we’ll be done with this ridiculous spectacle, and you won’t have to lower yourself to touch me again.” He drew in a sharp breath through his nose, and his nostrils flared.

Hermione’s mouth fell open, and she furrowed her brow as she considered him. He, too, seemed surprised by his outburst of emotion and managed to stiffen even further.

“Former,” she said quietly. “That’s the part that matters. And that has nothing to do with me not wanting to be here.” He looked down at her again with an unfathomable expression. They stared at each other for a few moments. Finally, he seemed to relax a little. He took her left hand in his right and placed his other hand squarely in the middle of the small of her back. She let out a little gasp as the heat from his hand penetrated the fabric of her dress, and she was surprised at the amount of coverage from the splay of his fingers. If he noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it.

Thankfully, the music started, and he began to move her expertly around the room. She hadn’t danced like this since the Yule Ball in fourth year, and she was sure she’d be tripping over her feet, making a fool of herself. Draco’s pureblood ballroom dancing training managed to overcome all her nerves though, and she relaxed in his arms, enjoying the feeling of being led. As fiercely independent as she was, sometimes she tired of being the “Brightest Witch of Her Age.” She loved her job, but it was exhausting to be Hermione Granger. She found she enjoyed losing herself in his easy dance steps.

The song ended, and couples around the room stood to join the dancefloor. Draco stopped and removed his hand from her back. She was surprised to find she missed the ease of being his dance partner. Flustered, she fidgeted with her dress.

“Umm, thank you for the dance, Draco. That was nice,” she said awkwardly. She looked frantically around the room at the crowd closing in on her. She felt a tightening in her chest and silently prayed the coming panic attack away. She was trying to find an exit so she could make her escape when she felt Draco take a step closer to her.

“Hermione…” he whispered. She looked back at him with her eyes wide and her breaths shallow. He squeezed her hand. “Would you like to dance again?” He was staring at her intently, taking in her frazzled state, and she was self-conscious but immediately grateful for the opportunity.

“Yes, I’d like that,” she rushed out. He wrapped his strong arm around her again, and she melted into him. She let him lead her around the floor and focused on breathing normally. Finally, the tension in her body released, and she thought about the man beside her.

After the war, she and Harry had testified at Draco’s trial. He was a minor for Merlin’s sake, and he had refused to identify them that horrible day at the Manor. Their testimony kept him out of Azkaban, only being sentenced to 6 months of house arrest. Narcissa received the same, but Lucius didn’t fare as well. He would be living out the rest of his days in solitary confinement in Azkaban.

Draco had picked up the pieces of his life and managed to secure a job in the Research Lab at the Ministry. He was as intelligent as ever and even more driven so he had risen up the ranks fairly quickly. There were still plenty of people who hated him for his surname and his family’s involvement in the war, but Draco turned a deaf ear and threw himself into his work. Hermione had had occasion to interact with him several times in the last year and was surprised to see his transformation. He was fairly quiet, no hurling of insults about blood status, but also mostly keeping his head down and proving his worth through his work. That had earned him the spot at the head table tonight. Hermione had to admit she was impressed with his accomplishments and his determination.

She was surprised he wasn’t here with anyone though. She tried to clear her throat discreetly, unsuccessfully because he looked down at her. “Why aren’t you here with anyone tonight?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

He furrowed his brow as he studied her face. “Mother is always trying to set me up with some witch or another, but I’m not interested right now. I want to focus on my work.”

“I understand,” Hermione replied. “You’ve certainly done well for yourself at the Ministry.”

He gave her a small smile. “I have a lot to make up for,” he said with a meaningful look.

Hermione flushed and looked away. She should have known he was filled with guilt. That explained why he was so relentless in his job. He obviously didn’t need the money.

“What about you?” he said. She looked back at him with her eyebrows raised, unsure of what he meant. “Why aren’t you here with anyone?”

“Oh…” she breathed. Her gaze absently fell on Ron. Draco followed the direction of her eyes and snorted. “Surely, you can do much better than the Weasel. He never deserved you anyway.”

She looked back at him, surprised. “Draco,” she drew out his name with a mock look of disapproval. “Was that a compliment?” She tutted at him with a sly smile. His ears turned pink.

“Of course not,” he replied and lifted his chin. “Everyone knows he’s an ignorant git. Besides, I’m not the one who nicknamed you the ‘Brightest Witch of Our Age.’” She rolled her eyes but grinned at him anyway.

“Ron and I broke up about 6 months ago. We’re still good friends – we always will be – but he and Harry are like brothers to me. A romantic relationship for us just didn’t fit.”

“And no other blokes have caught your eye in all that time?” he drawled.

Hermione playfully smacked his shoulder. “I’ve been busy with my work, too, you know!” After a few minutes of companionable silence, she whispered, “The anniversary is hard for me. I didn’t want to spend it putting on a face, enduring forced conversation, with a wizard I barely know and don’t care about.”

“And yet, here you are, talking and dancing with a _former_ enemy instead,” he whispered back. His tone was playful, but there was an intensity in his eyes again. She lost herself in the cool gray for a few seconds and then looked away.

“Yes, well,” she sniffed. “It’s not so bad after all.” At that, the music stopped again, and Hermione looked back to Draco. Rather than letting her go, he tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her closer to his body so that they were pressed up against each other. The music started up again, and she smiled at him, thankful for this unexpected haven. They began to move around the floor again, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

She was so comfortable and relieved of her earlier tension a little moan of pleasure escaped her throat. Immediately embarrassed by her audible mishap, she snapped her head up to look at him, wide-eyed. He gave a little chuckle and raised the hand on her back to her neck to gently press her head back to his chest again. He gently laid his head on top of her curls and slowly rubbed his hand back down her back. She closed her eyes and swayed with him for what seemed like hours.

After that, she was only mildly aware of songs ending and beginning and people moving by on the dance floor as she and Draco spent the remaining time in each other’s arms. Sometimes, he hummed or whistled quietly, and she enjoyed the sound reverberating through his chest. They even shared some laughs over the shocked expressions being thrown their way. She gave some thought to what he might be thinking and deliberately ignored what the other people at the ball might say upon seeing part of the Golden Trio dancing with a Malfoy. She knew her friends would probably pounce on her as soon as they separated so she devised a perfect solution to that problem – complete refusal to extricate herself from his arms. That would do it.

But all good things must come to an end – even really confusing ones. The music stopped and didn’t start back up again. Honestly, she didn’t know how long it had been over because when she opened her eyes, half of the dance floor was already empty. Slowly, she raised her head to look at Draco. They gazed at each other intently. With one hand still entwined with hers, he brought the other off her back to brush her hair back from her face. They stared at each other for another immeasurable moment.

“Thank you for the dance,” he whispered. She flushed. Draco smirked and raised their hands to his mouth to gently kiss the back of her hand. With a light squeeze and a wink, he pulled away and walked quickly from the room, not stopping to talk to anyone on his exit path. She stared after him stupidly.

Less than 10 seconds passed before she heard a furious swishing of fabric behind her and felt Ginny’s hands on her shoulders. The redhead spun Hermione around and squealed. “You just spent the whole night dancing with Draco Malfoy! I need to hear all about it!” Hermione just stood there with her mouth hanging open but no sound coming out. “I don’t know what to say, Gin,” she finally said. “Let me get back to you on that.” And she willed her wobbly legs to make a quick path for the door. “Okay, but I’m coming over tomorrow for breakfast if I haven’t heard from you!” Ginny yelled at her back.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever true to her word (especially when there was a bit of juicy gossip to be learned), at the earliest reasonable hour, Ginny arrived at Hermione’s flat the next morning with coffee and Muggle takeaway.

“Okay, spill,” she demanded as she plopped down on the opposite end of the couch from where Hermione was waiting for her, stroking Crookshanks’s fur. The elderly half-Kneazle was apparently not interested in the details of her sordid night with a Malfoy and took his leave to go.

“Well…” Hermione began as Ginny handed her a paper mug and a chocolate croissant with an expectant look. “I still have no idea how to feel about it so I certainly don’t know what to tell you.”

Ginny snorted. “Then start at the beginning! Did you plan for that to happen? Is that why you turned down every wizard I suggested you take to the ball?”

“Of course not!” Hermione huffed indignantly. “I told you the truth! I had no desire to spend that day with a fake smile plastered on my face while making forced polite conversation. Draco was just an unintended consequence…” she trailed off. She wasn’t sure “consequence” was exactly the right word given how it had all worked out… she felt her mouth turn up in a little smile at the thought of it.

Ginny, shrewd witch that she was, caught her expression immediately. “But you enjoyed being with him, didn’t you?” The redhead gave her a very knowing look – daring her friend to try to contradict it.

Hermione sighed and covered her face. “Yes! And it surprised me as much as anyone. I swear!” Thankfully, Ginny let her think for a minute. “It’s just that there’s so many expectations on me since the war. Everyone is always looking to me just because I was able to keep two idiot boys alive in a tent for almost a year. Ugh!”

Ginny reached over and grabbed her hand. “You know you did a lot more than that,” she said quietly. Hermione looked at Ginny’s earnest expression and moaned, “I know, but we all did. We were only children, and we fought a war. And when it was over, we still didn’t find peace. The Prophet won’t let me show my face without snapping a photo and writing something about it, and people seem to think I have all the answers. It was so nice to lose myself and let someone else lead for once.”

“I know,” Ginny agreed, and bless her heart, she did. “Harry struggles with the same thing. And Ron… well, I don’t think he struggles…period.” It was Hermione’s turn to snort. Ginny shook her head and continued, “But the war did change all of us. We each have to react to that in our own way.”

Hermione sighed. “I certainly didn’t expect to find myself coping in the arms of Draco Malfoy, but I don’t know how I would have made it through last night without him.” She thought for a minute before adding quietly, “You know I’ve been suffering with anxiety for years…The war certainly didn’t help that.” Again, Ginny knew. Hermione was reminded of how thankful she was to have a friend like her.

But Ginny was also a do-er. She trudged on. “Okay, what now?” the redhead prompted.

Hermione shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. Maybe it was just a one-time thing. Maybe people got all their gossip out of their system last night, and I won’t have to think about it ever again.” As she said it, she knew there was no way in hell that was true, but she tried to hold her straight face. Ginny just cocked an eyebrow, and the two girls dissolved in a fit of giggles. “Yeah, right,” Ginny managed, wiping tears out of her eyes, and Hermione knew she was right.


	3. Chapter 3

After Ginny left, Hermione enjoyed Sunday dinner with her parents and tried not to think about what was waiting for her at the Ministry on Monday. By the time she flooed to work though, her stomach was in knots. She was convinced that everyone she passed was staring at her, and she had to force her feet not to run to her office. Once there, she dashed inside, slammed the door, and leaned against it. She buried herself in her work for several hours but was startled by a sharp knock on her office door.

“Come in,” she squeaked, terrified at what she was about to face.

The door opened and closed quickly as none other than Draco Malfoy strode in and stood at her desk. She wasn’t sure whether to be glad or still terrified. She stared up at him in shock.

“Good morning, Granger,” he said somewhat stiffly. She blinked a few times. He sighed and smirked. “Mind if I sit down?” That snapped her out of it.

“Sure, Dra- I mean, Malfoy – have a seat. Would you like some tea?” she asked, flustered.

“Thank you, no,” he said politely. Hermione nodded and tried to force a small smile on her face, but she was sure it looked more deranged than genuine. For his part, the blonde had his normal façade of cool arrogance in place, but his hands fidgeted a little in his lap. Hermione cocked her head to the side when she noticed, and he stilled them at once.

“Yes, well…” he started. “I wanted to thank you again for the dance. I trust you enjoyed the rest of your weekend.”

Hermione waited a beat too long to answer again. “Yes! It was nice. My weekend I mean. Well, the dance was nice, too. Both were nice,” she groaned internally at her ridiculous babbling and clamped her mouth closed. They stared at each other awkwardly. She sighed. “I’m sorry… for how strangely I acted.”

“Then or now?” he asked smugly. Hermione glared at him, and he grinned proudly. “Git,” she snapped, rolling her eyes, but she couldn’t keep her face in quite the grimace she intended.

“I have a hard time with all the public scrutiny since the war…It was nice to not be in charge of anything for once,” she admitted quietly.

A pained look passed over Draco’s face, and he said, “I certainly understand that.”

Abruptly, Hermione felt her stomach drop at the way he must feel every day. At least people looked to her out of respect, whether or not she thought it was warranted. She well knew that wasn’t the reception Malfoy was met with. She remembered back to their time at Hogwarts, and a small voice inside reminded her that some of the attitude in the wizarding world toward him was well deserved. But as she looked across the desk to the man who sat in front of her now, the petulant boy she’d grown up with seemed more like a manipulated pawn of his upbringing than the pure evil she once thought him to be.

Malfoy seemed uncomfortable with her scrutiny and forced the smirk back on his face. “A lot can be said of Malfoys, Granger, but poor dancing is never one of them. I appreciate you letting _me_ lead for a change.” He rose to go, and Hermione found herself on her feet as well.

“Draco?” she said a little too loudly. He turned to look at her, wide-eyed, and she blushed. His eyes softened a little.

“Yes, Hermione?”

“I don’t suppose you like to do any other kinds of dance?” she hurried out, embarrassed.

Draco cocked an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, Ginny and Luna and I like to go to this Muggle club sometimes to unwind…It’s nice to go somewhere that nobody knows your face, you know?” Draco nodded, his turn to be dumbstruck. “Anyway, you could join us some time…if you want…” Draco looked like he could be knocked over with a feather, but he recovered with his usual smirk. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, “Granger, are you asking me on a date?”

A part of her wanted to blush and drop her head and deny it, but that Gryffindor courage wouldn’t allow it. She wanted to challenge him. She lifted her chin, stared him straight in the eye, and said, “So what if I am?” He looked shocked for just a second before he let out a belly laugh. She’d never seen him let go like that, and she was surprised at how much she liked it.

“Alright,” he said. “This weekend. It’s a date. And I’m looking forward to seeing what else the Gryffindor Princess has up her sleeve.” At that, she scowled, and he gave her a dazzling smile. She could hear him chuckle softly as he nodded to her and left her office.

She plopped down in her chair and covered her mouth to suppress a squeal. She wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but she couldn’t wait to be in his arms again. She whipped out a piece of parchment and started a note to Ginny, her hand shaking with excitement. The weight in her chest lifted, and she could breathe freely for the first time in ages.

*~The End~*


End file.
